


Summer Postcards

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 02:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: James has a summer cold and is feeling fed up until he finds some saved postcards.





	Summer Postcards

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ/DW's Lewis Challenge Summer 2017 Challenge

James Hathaway wandered around the house moodily.  It was summer, it was raining heavily, and he had a cold.  It was also his day off, so he was unable to inflict his misery on his colleagues at the station.  Even Robbie had gone out, saying he had a number of chores to do, and thank you for the offer, but no, James needn’t come and share his germs with the rest of Oxford.

He didn’t feel ill enough to stay in bed, but at the same time his brain felt sufficiently fuzzy he wasn’t able to concentrate on anything.  In the end he decided to sort through the bottom drawer in his desk, which is where he pushed items he didn’t particularly need, but didn’t want to get rid of.

He opened the drawer and took out a group of postcards.  


_Dear James,_

_Thank you for insisting I take Peter up on his invitation.  This part of Wales is very beautiful.  I’ve taken lots of photos, some of them are actually half decent, and I promise to bore you with them when I get back.  The beer’s good too.  We went on a brewery tour yesterday, and I’ve bought various samples for us to try.  Peter’s been telling me some of the local legends, which I think you’d like.  I shall try to remember them, but since we were also drinking his brewery purchase, I may have muddled the details._

_Robbie_

  
James smiled.  It was a couple of months after the case which had involved the _Book of Divine Refreshment_.  Robbie and he had been talking about moving in together, and Robbie had been concerned that James might be upset if he went off to stay with an old friend for a few days.  James had been adamant Robbie go and had even threatened to pack for him.

It was only after Robbie had gone that James realised how much he did miss him.  It wasn’t just the physical side he missed, although that played its part.  It was the sharing of every day events, sitting down for meals together, and taking time, rather than eating quickly in order to move onto the next thing.  It was Robbie’s calming influence, when everything was battling for dominance in his head.  It was going somewhere, even just walking by the river, and laughing at the antics of a duck; insignificant matters which wouldn’t be worth telling someone about later.

James had laughed when Robbie had suggested the few days apart would give James time to reflect on whether he really did want to move in with him.  And strangely enough, that was what happened.  But James wasn’t having second thoughts, he was even more sure that this was what he wanted to do.  So he spent all his free time whilst Robbie was away packing his belongings up, ready for the move.

Inevitably, the postcard arrived after Robbie returned.

  
_James,_

_Whatever made me agree to going on holiday with Lyn and family?  When she suggested I relive the joys of a family holiday I must have forgotten the other side, or else my added years have made me more grumpy.  The sheer enthusiasm of a small child at 6am; going to the beach in the rain in order to build sandcastles; ice cream melting everywhere; the tears at not being allowed yet another donkey ride.  That’s not really fair, I’m enjoying my time with them, but am definitely feeling my age!  Must go, my bucket and spade await!_

_Robbie_

  
James chuckled.  Robbie had told Innocent he was retiring, had submitted all the required forms, and was using up some of his accumulated leave.  Lyn, hearing of Robbie’s decision, and no doubt seeing the opportunity of having an evening alone with her husband during the holiday, had invited Robbie to join them.  James had, once again, encouraged Robbie to go, knowing that the distraction would help prevent him from brooding on whether he had made the right decision.

The postcard, sent two days into the holiday, had this time arrived before Robbie got back.  James, on reading it, had booked a table at their favourite country pub for them to enjoy a Sunday lunch, before they had a gentle afternoon stroll down the lanes. 

Then he had sat down at his computer and researched various European holiday destinations for later in the autumn.  He had ordered a guide book, which should arrive in time for the weekend, preliminarily booked some leave of his own, and bookmarked a number of potential hotels.  Part of him would have liked to surprise Robbie by telling him he’d booked a holiday for them, but he knew this wouldn’t be a good move.  It was one thing to say “We’re going out for lunch on Sunday”, quite another to say “We’re going to Portugal for a week in October.”

As it was, that had been a wise decision.  Over Sunday lunch, James mentioned his plans for a holiday.  Robbie had liked the idea, and made some suggestions of his own, which meant they ended up booking a two-centre break, which James would never have considered. 

  
_Dear Monty,_

_We would like you to know we are having a lovely time in Portugal.  First, we spent a few days in Lisbon exploring the city, which was very interesting, although we don’t suppose you would think so.  We have been to some very beautiful churches and also visited some fascinating museums.  We are now enjoying the dramatic Atlantic coast, and have even been on a boat ride to explore various caves.  Sardines are very popular here, you would certainly enjoy them.  We hope you are having a nice time with Auntie Laura._

_See you soon_

_Robbie and James_

  
This postcard, too, had arrived after they returned, although somehow James didn’t think the cat had been too bothered.  He remembered when Robbie had written it, one evening when they had both drunk a considerable amount of the local wine.  They had one spare postcard which he’d suggested they could send to Monty, and Robbie had studiously written it.

James heard Robbie’s car draw up, and smiling to himself, he put the postcards back into the drawer, so they could be read again when he was feeling a bit down.

 


End file.
